Beyond a Doubt
by Erik Thomas Stephans
Summary: Shawn Spencer, psychic detective for the SBPD, never imagined he'd actually get to meet a real alien in his life! Lucky for him, this one's on earth's side. After starting an investigation for Lassiter, he finds he's separated from Gus, with this Doctor?


A/N: Okay, I've gotten a total of one hour of sleep in the last 48 hours, so if things don't make sense or Shawn inexplicable seems more like he should be Dean from Supernatural, that's why. My mind continued to slip into Dean for Shawn, Idk why, but it was frustrating, ultimately what got me to stop for tonight. Lemme know if you have any suggestions or comments about anything here. I figured I'd post this here and see what the response is, see if I should continue posting this here or not.

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"Never knowingly be serious," the Doctor replied, waggling his eyebrows at his new companion of sorts. After Amy and Rory, he figured it was time to change things up a bit. Sure, he was from earth, but he wasn't the Doctor's usual type. Well, at least as of the last few hundred years. Maybe he had been subconsciously trying to pair himself off to, but that was a bit ridiculous... Well, then there was Rose. But he had River now, so it wasn't like there was anything left to acquire for himself other than a companion to take on his adventures. It definitely wasn't nearly as fun going alone.

"I hear you on that..." Shawn trailed off indecisively, still drinking it all in. But his eyes quickly snapped back to the slender man who seemed to be or all purposes about the same age as he was, or a bit younger, but there was something about him that was off. "What was your name again?" he questioned, trying to find a place to get comfortable.

"You can call me the Doctor," he easily rejoined, pulling levers and flipping switches, a grin plastered on his face.

The Doctor's eyes met with Shawn's and he grinned even wider, if it was possible. Shawn couldn't help it when he gave a grin nearly just as large back.

"So, you really are an alien, huh? Well, at least Gus isn't here to rub it in my face," the "psychic" mused, still trying to figure everything out. The whole last two hours had been such a blur...

The day had started with the usual taunting and jeering with Head Detective Lassiter of the SBPD, trying to convince Gus to get his ass down to the station to help him with a case. It wasn't exactly the best of cases, but he was definitely going to want Gus in on this one. Something about strange instances happening around town.

And of course, when the two had gotten to the scene of the crime (to be honest, Shawn couldn't even remember what this crime was supposed to have been, anymore) and he'd seen something suspicious and a whine emit from the same general area. Gus had his queue to freeze up and refuse to budge even after multiple tries on Shawn's behalf.

"Fine, I'll just have to do it myself," the detective whispered at Gus, giving him a glare as he kept low, sneaking around the boxes in the warehouse. "God, does nobody ever clean this place?" he coughed as dust flew in his face as a gust of wind rushed out the open door they'd come through from the other end. It was like no one had been in the warehouse for several hundred years! Shawn estimated, but he was known to exaggerate.

Next thing he knew, he was hit over the head with something hard, knocking him to the ground. Dazedly peering up at his attacker as he lay on the ground, trying not to panic. Before he could hold onto the image that he thought he saw, he slipped into unconsciousness.

He woke up with his head throbbing and a cool pair of hands checking his head for any signs of bleeding. Shawn only knew that from the stinging pain that radiated from what he could only figure was a gash on the side of his head where he'd hit the concrete.

"Jeeze, can you lay up a little, it hurts," he hissed, then shivered as he pulled in a labored breath. "Where the hell am I?" Shawn moaned, trying to sit up.

"Hush," the foreign-sounding voice commanded him. "Relax, you're safe. I took care of the creature... Whatever it was. I couldn't get a good look at it, it moved too quickly for me, but I think I've scared it off." The other paused, taking a deep breath, almost as if he hesitated, trying to figure out what to do with a wounded, bleeding stranger that he'd found in an old, abandoned warehouse.

As Shawn was slowly coming to, while his eyes were still blurred, he barely could make out mechanical sounds over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. "Why should I trust you," he demanded, gritting his teeth. For all he knew, this could be his attacker!

"I'm a doctor, you're going to have to trust me," the stranger stressed, delicate fingers pulling away Shawn's hair to get a better look at the gash. "It doesn't look too bad," he murmured, shifting a little to get a better look, pulling something out of pocket in his jacket that made a kid of whirring noise that the psychic detective couldn't place.

"Well, that's great," Shawn groaned, "I'm only completely alone with some doctor and some crazy _thing_ on the loose... And I'm just supposed to lay here and take this? Are you kidding me?" He wasn't going to go down without fight.

"_Shhhh_..." the other voice insisted, compelling Shawn to rest his case for a minute or two, fidgeting a little. "I think I know what to do," he muttered, shuffling around, coming back with ice cold gel on his cold fingers, gently applying it to the injured scalp. "There, you'll be all better in no time," the 'doctor' told his patient softly, and Shawn could hear the smile in his voice. "Just don't move around too much for a couple of hours. Get some rest," he suggested.

Scoffing, Shawn rolled his eyes that were still unable to focus on anything clearly. "I guess the _doctor_ knows best," he retorted, keeping the comment to himself - or at least that was the intention. Somehow, he noted as he was drifting back off into unconsciousness, that the stranger had heard every word.


End file.
